


Let It Shine

by Thistlerose



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Angst, Family, Hanukkah, Holidays, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-16
Updated: 2010-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between tours, Kirk brings McCoy home to Iowa to celebrate Chanukah with his mother and his brother's family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let It Shine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Space_Wrapped 2010. Many, many thanks to Lauriegilbert for beta reading.

Soft flakes were falling from the ashen sky by the time Leonard parked the car in the gravel-covered driveway and turned off the engine. In the passenger seat, Jim awoke with a soft moan, fluttering his eyelashes drowsily, and raised his head.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” Leonard said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for the small lever that opened the trunk. “And welcome home.” He waited for a response, but Jim only gazed out the window at the house he hadn’t seen in eight years and didn’t say a word. After a few moments, Leonard gave up and pushed the car door open.

Despite the chilly air, it felt good to stand again, and to stretch. As he walked around the car to take their bags out of the trunk, he inhaled deeply. He could smell burning wood, probably from a neighbor’s fireplace, and balsam. Scents that were comforting in their earthiness.

He didn’t hear Jim get out of the car, didn’t hear the crunch of gravel as he approached, so he almost jumped when Jim said, right by his ear, “Hand me one of those.”

Hoisting their bags to his shoulder, Leonard closed the trunk. “I got it.”

“I’m not an invalid.”

He sounded earnest but not belligerent. Leonard turned and studied him for a moment, taking in the tight line of his jaw, the small crease between his eyebrows. White puffs of water vapor filled the air between them.

“Fine,” Leonard said, handing over one of the bags. It wasn’t worth arguing about, and anyway, they traveled light.

They walked in silence to the front door where Jim rang the bell. As they waited, a brutal blast tore across the yard, rattling tree branches and tossing snowflakes skyward. Despite his woolen coat and scarf, Leonard shivered from his heels to his scalp. He resisted the urge to place a protective arm around Jim’s shoulders. He did, however, move slightly so that he was standing between him and the porch steps.

Jim glanced over his shoulder at Leonard and raised his eyebrows, but before he could say anything the front door opened, and there was Winona Kirk, looking slightly frazzled, with her blonde hair pinned back, an apron tied around her waist, and what looked like flour on the tip of her nose. At the sight of them, her blue eyes opened wide. She said “ _Jim_ ” in a way that squeezed Leonard’s heart, and then she flung her arms around her son, simultaneously hugging him and pulling him into the front hall.

As Leonard followed, closing the door behind him and adjusting the strap of his duffel so it rested more comfortably on his shoulder, he wondered if Winona had missed the hectic play of color across Jim’s pale cheeks, or if she’d mistaken it for a reaction to the cold air. She could not miss how thin he was, even through the leather bomber jacket and the two sweaters Leonard had insisted he wear.

Leonard looked away as she raised her head, and his eyes met Sam Kirk’s. Sam grinned and offered a hand, which Leonard took and squeezed warmly. He’d only met Jim’s older brother twice, after the ceremony where Jim got his first commendation as captain, and right before the _Enterprise_ ’s launch at the start of its five-year mission. He liked Sam. His overall impression was of a more earthly version of Jim: smart, handsome, easy to get along with, but unlikely to save galaxies or star in Leonard’s dirty fantasies.

“Nice to see you again, Leonard,” Sam said, releasing his hand. “Good to be dirt-side for a while?”

“We’ll see,” said Leonard guardedly, and Sam laughed.

“Know what you mean. You get used to a place, it’s hard to leave.”

Leonard doubted Sam had any idea what he meant, but he nodded anyway. By that time Winona had let go of Jim and taken his bag, and Sam’s wife Elise and two small sons had joined them in the hallway. Elise looked about four months pregnant, and Jim’s exclamation of surprise and delight was so spontaneous, so heartfelt, that Leonard’s throat tightened. He stood back and watched as Jim embraced his sister-in-law, then gave Sam’s arm a light punch, chiding him for keeping secrets, before pulling him into a tight hug.

“We wanted to surprise you.” Sam kissed Jim’s cheek. “Happy Chanukah, brat. And welcome home.”

The brotherly reunion didn’t last long. Sam and Elise’s elder son, George – who was about six, if Leonard remembered right – grabbed Jim by his jacket pocket and tugged insistently. “Uncle Jim, Uncle Jim.”

Jim let go of his brother and dropped to his haunches in front of his nephews. “What, what?” he said, mimicking George’s impatient tone.

Suddenly finding himself face-to-face with his famous uncle, George became shy. “Um…” He glanced at his younger brother, but three-year-old Alexander appeared even more tongue-tied. “Uh…”

Elise cupped George’s shoulders. He looked up at her. “There was something you wanted to ask your uncle, wasn’t there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Uh, Uncle Jim?”

“Yes?” Jim tipped his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. It was an expression Leonard had seen dozens of times, at diplomatic functions. It conveyed infinite patience and attentiveness. God only knew how many hours Jim had spent practicing it in the mirror.

“Uncle Jim,” said George, caught, like so many before him, in that bright blue regard, “is it true you fought a dinosaur in space?”

Beside Leonard, Winona smothered a laugh with the back of her hand. “Well,” said Jim, “technically the Gorn wasn’t a dinosaur, but he definitely looked like one.”

“But you fought ‘im, right?”

Jim nodded solemnly. “Yup.”

“Did you kill ‘im?”

“Nope.”

“How come?” George sounded disappointed.

“Well,” said Jim, “I didn’t need to. I don’t like killing people unless I absolutely have to. And even then…” Leonard was glad he trailed off there. “I just needed to stop the Gorn from killing me.”

“How’d you do that?”

Sam intervened at that point. “Easy, buddy,” he said with a light, indulgent laugh. “Your uncle’s come a long, long way. _Much_ farther than Seattle. Give him a minute to catch his breath before you bombard him with questions.”

George pouted. Like Alexander, he had his mother’s dark eyes and hair, but Leonard recognized the expression on his small face from a dozen arguments with Jim, and for the first time in a while, he felt his lips twitch in the beginning of a smile.

“Fine,” George huffed. Then he noticed Leonard. “Um,” he said, “who’re you?”

“ _George_ ,” Winona groaned softly, shaking her head.

“We told you Uncle Jim was bringing a friend,” said Sam. “That’s Leonard McCoy. He flies on the _Enterprise_ too.”

George’s eyes clouded for a moment. Then he brightened. “Oh, yeah. I remember. Hi.”

“Hi there,” Leonard said.

“He’s also my doctor,” said Jim, with just the slightest emphasis on the adjective. “Just a doctor, not a physicist or a dog-catcher or a parasailor or any other crazy thing. Just the best doctor in Starfleet.” He looked over his shoulder at Leonard. “Which is something you probably want to have if you’re gonna fight dinosaurs in space.”

Jim’s tone was perfectly affable, but a slight frown tugged at his lips, and the flicker of doubt in his cool blue eyes stopped Leonard’s breath. Fortunately, no one else seemed to notice, and the mask was back in place a moment later.

“Uncle Jim?” said George. “Want to see what me and Alex got for Chanukah?” He glanced at his father. “Uh, in like … five minutes?”

“Give him a _little_ more time,” Sam said.

“Ten minutes?”

“Why don’t you wait until after supper to show off your new toy?” Winona suggested. “It’ll take just a few minutes to fry up the latkes. Then we have to light the candles. Then we’re going to eat.”

George huffed. “Fine. Can I just _tell_ him what we got?”

“Go right ahead,” said Sam.

“It’s a spaceship!” Alex blurted, startling everyone. Realizing he’d just acquired the full attention of five adults plus his older brother, he turned bright red and clamped his mouth shut. Elise put her arms around him.

“It’s a _Lego_ spaceship,” George said, shooting Alex a poisonous look. “Do you know what the name of the spaceship is, Uncle Jim? Try to guess.”

“Don’t make him guess,” said Sam, rolling his eyes. “C’mon.”

“Is it the _Enterprise_?” asked Jim.

“Nope. Guess again.”

“George,” said Sam warningly.

“Why don’t you just tell me?” said Jim. “I’m dying of suspense here. Don’t prolong my agony.”

“Okay, fine,” said George. “It’s the _Phoenix._ ”

“No way,” said Jim. “That was going to be my next guess. The _Phoenix_ was a very important ship. D’you know why?”

George shook his head. “Grandma said you’d tell us, ‘cause you’re a history nut.”

Jim looked up at his mother and cocked an eyebrow. “Why do I have a feeling that’s an exact quote? All right.” He climbed stiffly to his feet and started to unzip his jacket. “Before we light candles, I’ll tell you all about the _Phoenix_ and Zefram Cochrane and Lily Sloane and the Vulcans. Then, after supper, you can show me the ship. If you need any help putting it together … I have some experience in that department. Deal?”

George seemed satisfied with that arrangement. “Yeah, okay,” he said.

“So, now that that’s settled,” said Sam, “let me take your coats and your bags, guys.”

While Sam carried their things upstairs to the guest bedroom, Elise and Jim shepherded the boys into the kitchen. Leonard would have followed them, but Winona’s hand caught his wrist, holding him back. His stomach clenched.

He waited, and at length Winona said in a voice so low he had to strain to hear, “I know about Ocora. They said it was bad. It was worse, wasn’t it?”

Leonard closed his eyes. Anyone who knew Jim and who looked closely could tell that he was recuperating. How she’d learned the name of the planet… He wanted to know who had told her, so he could wring his neck. At the same time, he realized the urge was ridiculous. Winona Kirk had been in Starfleet half her life; she had hundreds of connections. For all he knew, Jim had let something slip the last time they’d spoken via subspace, though that struck him as unlikely.

“Leonard? Come on. You have the worst poker face I’ve ever seen. I don’t keep tabs on him, but I follow the news, and information finds its way to me. I need to know…”

“It was bad,” he said flatly. “He…” But the words wouldn’t come. He’d gone over the debacle in excruciating detail when he’d dictated his report to Starfleet. He went over it again and again in his head almost every night, between closing his eyes and sinking into a fitful sleep. The flawed intelligence. The stunning ease with which they’d been betrayed. His dreams were filled with images of torn flesh and splintered bone, a shredded soul staring out at him through glazed blue eyes…

“He’s going to be all right, though?”

Leonard breathed deeply and opened his eyes. He was aware of movement elsewhere in the house – Sam walking around upstairs, Jim describing in loving detail the launch of the first warp ship in 2063, with occasional interjections by George – but the air around him seemed so still. “He’s going to be fine.” He looked down at Winona, focusing on the pale line of her mouth. He used to be good at this, at talking to his patients’ family.

“Okay.” She gave his wrist a squeeze. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll try not to hover over him. Unless you need a break?”

“Haven’t had a break in eight years,” he said with a weary shrug. “Wouldn’t know what to do with one if I did. Let me handle Jim. I didn’t bring him all the way back here so you could worry over him.”

Winona tilted her head, regarding him with wide, expressive eyes that were very much like her younger son’s. “You brought him home safe, anyway. Thank you, Leonard.” She sighed. Then she smiled wanly. “Come on. I’ll pour you a drink. I think you could use one. It’s a holiday, so let’s celebrate.”

* * * *

It was Leonard’s first Chanukah. He’d learned about the holiday in pre-school, and in the decades since then he’d had a number of Jewish friends and colleagues, though most had not been particularly observant. He didn’t know much about Elise’s background, beyond the fact that her parents were from Japan and she'd grown up in the Pacific northwest. The Kirks, Jim had told him once, were not at all religious. Jim was definitely not, though he always made an effort to show respect for other people’s faiths. And yet, as Leonard watched him watch his mother light candles, his nephews clinging to his hands, his brother and sister-in-law beside him, it was clear that this ritual meant something to him personally. He murmured the prayers, and it occurred to Leonard that in the eight years they’d known each other, this was the first time he’d seen Jim pray.

 _Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam asher kidishanu b'mitz'votav v'tzivanu l'had'lik neir shel Chanukah._

Leonard didn’t pray, unless the occasional muttered “God help me,” usually accompanied by a weary headshake, counted. Not even on Ocora, when he was literally holding Jim together with his bare hands. It hadn’t even occurred to him to try.

 _Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam she'asah nisim la'avoteinu bayamim haheim baziman hazeh._

The silver menorah gleamed. Beyond the windowpane, falling snowflakes were caught in the glow of the candle flames and lit up like tiny sparks. They swirled before Leonard’s eyes and filled him with an inexplicable loneliness. He wanted to touch Jim, wrap his arms around his waist and lean into him, feel his heartbeat against his palm and rest his cheek against his shoulder.

He couldn’t move. It wasn’t because this was not his holiday, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the single malt Scotch whisky he’d been sipping. His soul was like those snowflakes: buffeted by a harsh wind, lit briefly by a candle’s warm glow, then lost in the howling darkness.

 _God, Jim, would you listen to me? I’m pathetic._

But Jim couldn’t hear him. He was on the other side of the invisible bridge Leonard couldn’t see his way across. Snow and sparks and stars flew up between them, filling Leonard’s eyes, lighting up the cold, dark corners of his heart, but he couldn’t move and he couldn’t speak, and when Jim finally lifted his head and turned to look at him, he had to look away.

* * * *

Because it was the sixth night of Chanukah, they lit six candles, plus the _shammus_ or helper candle. Once all seven were burning brightly, they sat down at the table and Winona served potato pancakes along with a salad of mixed greens, garnished with toasted nuts and thin-sliced persimmons. The scent of the peanut oil lingered in the air, adding to the flavors on the table. Jim slathered his latkes with applesauce. George and Alex, who’d claimed seats on either side of him and who seemed to have adopted him as their idol, did the same. Winona, Sam, and Elise were somewhat more circumspect in their application, and Leonard followed their example.

The latkes were good: crispy around the edges, soft in the middle. The salad was delicious. As his teeth sank into the persimmon’s flesh and sweet juice filled his mouth, Leonard had to close his eyes for a moment and fight the urge to groan. He wasn’t even a big fan of persimmons. It had simply been a long, long time. The fruits Hikaru Sulu managed to cultivate in the _Enterprise_ ’s botanic garden were not the same.

He opened his eyes to find Jim watching him. Leonard read wry amusement in the curve of his lips, but the look in his eyes was a mystery. _How are you holding up, kiddo?_ Leonard wanted to ask. _Is it too much, being back? Are you okay?_

Holding his gaze, Jim raised his wine glass in what appeared to be the beginning of a salute. For a second, his hand seemed to tremble. But then Alex tugged at his sleeve, demanding his attention and Jim had to lean down so he could whisper something that was very important and apparently secret in his ear.

“Okay,” Jim said, grinning, the corners of his eyes crinkling, as he lifted his head. “I promise.” He sipped his wine, and Leonard found himself wondering if he’d imagined the slight tremor. It could have been a trick of the light.

He wasn’t given time to dwell on it, fortunately. Elise touched his arm and asked him to pass the water jug. As he did, she asked what he and Jim were doing for Christmas, and if they had any plans to visit Georgia before the _Enterprise_ left drydock for its next long voyage.

Grateful for the distraction, Leonard looked at his plate. “Our plans are sort of up in the air right now. My mother still lives in the house where I grew up, but we don’t exactly get along. I have a cousin in Atlanta – teaches Comp Lit at Emory – and she offered us her apartment while she and her wife are in Ireland. My daughter’s actually in New Zealand right now, scuba diving with her mother and stepfather. They’re flying up to Tokyo for Christmas – the stepfather has family there – but they’ll be back in Georgia before … the _Enterprise_ leaves.” Sam and Winona were listening as well. He wondered if any of them had caught his slight hesitation or realized he was rambling. He swallowed quickly, then added, “So, yeah, I’ll see Joanna. I just don’t know exactly when.”

“How old is she now?” Elise asked.

“Fourteen,” Leonard said, looking up finally. He could hear the amazement in his own voice. “Gonna be fifteen in February. Can hardly believe it. When I left for the Academy, she was just this little thing with pigtails. George’s age, in fact. We’ve been communicating via subspace for the past few years, but I know it’s gonna hit me hard, seeing her face to face for the first time.” He shoved a forkful of salad into his mouth to shut himself up.

“We’re hoping it’s a girl this time,” said Elise. “Not that another son wouldn’t be wonderful, but I’d really love a daughter.”

“Yeah, so would I,” said Sam, giving his sons and brother a look of fond exasperation. “Though, really, just a healthy kid…”

“And if you got another boy?” Jim interjected, a challenging look in his eyes. “One who happened to have a ton of health problems as a kid, on account of the fact that he was born almost three months early and exposed to radiation and other fun things?”

“Depends,” said Sam, not missing a beat. “Is he a brat who sneaks into my room and steals my stuff?”

“Only stuff you’re dumb enough to leave within his reach.”

“Which was pretty much everything I owned,” Sam remarked dryly. “El, you’ve heard this, but Leonard, you probably haven’t – I came home from school one day to find Jim in my room. I was nine, and he was five. He’d been trying to get something from the shelf in my closet, which was pretty high up, and to reach it he’d stacked a footstool _and_ a stepladder on top of a chair. I found him clinging to the shelf by his fingertips.”

Jim brightened. “I remember that trip to the emergency room!”

There was a faint clatter as Winona set her utensils down. Her eyes closed, her head bowed slightly, she said, “Can we not?” in a brittle voice. “Please?”

For about a minute, nobody spoke. Even George and Alex seemed to sense that something was wrong; they looked uncertainly from their grandmother to their uncle to their parents. The contents of Leonard’s stomach churned; he knew he wasn’t going to be able to eat another bite.

“Sorry,” Jim muttered.

“Jim?” said Sam.

“Yeah?”

“You’re an idiot. I love you.”

It was clearly not what he’d expected, and his reaction was both startling and endearing. He flushed from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, lowered his lashes, and bit his lip. At length he said, his voice suspiciously thick, “Boys, there is actually a lesson in all this and that is sometimes it’s really okay to look before you leap. Also, stay out of each other’s stuff.”

“What’s this?” said Sam, cupping his ear. “Is this wisdom I’m hearing from the mouth of James Tiberius Kirk?”

“It’s a Chanukah miracle,” proclaimed Winona.

* * * *

After the supper dishes had been cleared away, Winona brewed a pot of decaf and sliced the cake, which they brought into the living room with them. Sam and Elise curled up together at one end of the sofa, her head on his chest, his arms around her waist. Winona perched at the other end, her slender legs tucked up beneath her, while Leonard sank into the thick cushions of the cavernous armchair.

Jim sprawled on the rug in front of the fireplace with George and Alex, who quickly ripped through the ribbons and shiny silver paper on the box he handed them. “Ohhh,” said George, once the last scrap of paper had fallen away. “It’s the … uh…” He frowned at the slanting yellow letters on the front of the box.

“It’s the _T’Plana-Hath,_ ” said Jim. “It’s the Vulcan survey ship that spotted the _Phoenix_ ’s warp signature on its first flight in 2063. This is the first alien ship that human beings _ever_ saw. And d’you know what else? The Captain of the _T’Plana-Hath_? This guy right here?” He pointed to the picture on the box. “That’s Solkar. He became the first Vulcan Ambassador to Earth. And he’s the great-grandfather of my first officer, Spock. How ‘bout that?”

“Wow,” said George, no doubt adding _psychic_ to his list of reasons to hero-worship Jim.

“Wow,” Alex echoed in a whisper.

“What do you say?” Elise prompted.

George didn’t look up from the box he clutched in his hands. “Thanks, Uncle Jim. And, um, Uncle Leonard.”

It was a blow he hadn’t seen coming, and it hit him like a cold wind, drowning out anything that Alex or anyone else might have said. When he came back to himself a few moments later, the room was the same. But he felt removed somehow. The firelight turned Jim’s hair to burnished gold, but Leonard felt none of its warmth. He saw Sam and Elise laughing together, saw her lean up to kiss his mouth, but he didn’t hear them. He looked at Winona, and saw that she was watching Jim and her grandsons. He looked at the candles and saw that they were burning low, beads of wax sliding down to splatter the branches of the menorah.

 _Tell me what to do, Jim. I’m stuck._

The candle on the far right, the first one Winona had lit, sputtered and went out.

* * * *

Sam, Elise, and the kids did not stay late. A little after nine, George began yawning, though he took great pains to hide it – holding his breath, trying to disguise it with an exaggerated cough. Alex, on the other hand, curled up on the rug next to Jim, closed his eyes, and went to sleep. At that point Elise said, “I think it’s just about bedtime.”

“No, no, no,” George protested, turning to his mother with pleading eyes.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she mocked gently. “We’ll be back tomorrow morning.” She struggled to rise. “Oof. Sam, help me up.”

After they had gone – George insisting that he wasn’t tired, Alex rousing himself long enough to kiss his uncle and grandmother goodnight and be helped into his coat – Jim announced that he was tired too. “Just sort of hit me,” he said, stretching. “Think I’m gonna take a shower, then read for a while. G’night, Mom. Bones … I’ll see you in a bit?”

Leonard met his eyes briefly and nodded. He watched Jim turn and walk slowly up the stairs, then listened to his footsteps as he crossed the hall. After hearing the bedroom door open then close gently, he turned to Winona. He’d been about to say, _I’ll finish cleaning up,_ but the look on her face stopped him.

“You told me he was going to be fine,” she said.

“He is,” said Leonard carefully.

“I know. I guess I believed you when you told me, but I needed to see for myself. He’s still recovering from whatever happened to him on Ocora, but he _is_ going to be fine. You, on the other hand…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He walked past her and started picking up empty coffee cups and saucers.

“Leave those,” she said but he ignored her, carrying the dishes into the kitchen and setting them down next to the sink. She followed him. “Leonard, come on. You really do have the worst poker face I’ve ever seen.” She paused, and he could practically hear her thinking, going over everything she imagined he wasn’t saying. “I didn’t miss what George called you,” she continued at length. “It’s true; you’ve been with Jim longer than George has been alive. You’re practically my son-in-law. You think I like seeing you this unhappy? Talk to me, and don’t fuck around with me.”

He hunched his shoulders, bracing himself. “I don’t know if I can go back there, all right?” The words ground out of him, hard and bitter. “After Ocora, and every other goddamn planet or moon that almost took him from… I’m fucking tired. And he knows. We haven’t exactly talked about it, but he knows. I’ve had other offers. Research facilities, hospitals. I haven’t said yes to any of them, but I haven’t said no either. Jim won’t tell me what to do, of course. He’s leaving it all up to me, and I don’t…”

She took him by the arms and pulled him away from the sink. He didn’t think he could have fought her if he’d wanted to.

She pushed him into a chair, then pulled another one over and sat down in it. For a few minutes, all they did was glare at each other. Outside, the wind howled across the hills and through the slender branches of the cedars. Inside, the only sound seemed to come from the running water in the bathroom upstairs. Leonard imagined Jim standing under the showerhead, naked and pale – but safe. And warm.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone,” Winona said. “To lose the one person you think you just can’t ever lose. George and I had some close calls on the _Kelvin_ , some very close calls. Afterward, I always thought about what it would actually be like, losing him. It used to keep me up at night. I thought it would kill me.” She looked down at her folded hands. “But it didn’t. I managed to survive without him. My boys saved me. They forced me to get up in the morning. And all hours of the night, in Jim’s case.”

On the floor above, the sound of running water stopped.

“I had to drag myself out of bed for my boys. And yeah, I resented it. I just wanted to lie there and disintegrate, but I made myself do it. I made myself look into their eyes and not fall apart crying. And after a while, I realized there was a part of me that enjoyed taking care of them. I loved them. It scared me how much I loved them, and I left them much sooner than I should have, partly because I missed my career, but partly because I was scared and… There’s something I’m trying to say. I’m not sorry I loved George as much as I did. I _am_ sorry I left my kids when they were still small.”

Leonard heard the slap of bare wet feet and the creak of wooden floorboards as Jim returned to the guest bedroom.

“I don’t know,” he said, anguished. It had been so much easier on the _Enterprise_ , where he’d had orders and a clearly defined duty. Even when he’d chafed under Jim or Spock’s authority, there’d been a trajectory, a path he’d been able to see and follow. “I don’t know.” He couldn’t keep looking at her bowed head, so he looked over at the menorah. There was one candle left, just a wick really, flickering in a tiny pool of wax.

“What don’t you know?” Winona asked wearily. “Is it whether or not you love him enough to risk the pain of losing him? You’re the only one who can answer that, but I think… I think we’re stronger than we believe. We’re capable of more love than we realize. And Jim loves you so much. Why do you think he brought you here, to this place where, frankly, he wasn’t that happy? Why do you think he’s leaving it all up to you, and not pushing you away? But I can’t tell you what to do. Except … go upstairs and be with him right now. Whatever you decide, if you can handle another tour or if this is it, there is no good reason for you to be sitting here talking with me when you could be with him.”

He didn’t remember getting up. He barely felt his legs as he ran up the stairs. In his haste, he almost tripped and fell, but he grabbed the railing in time. When he got to the bedroom door, he didn’t bother to knock. With a shaking hand, he turned the old fashioned knob and pushed the door open.

The lights were on. Their duffels were on the floor by the foot of the bed. The sweaters and jeans Jim had been wearing earlier lay on a chair, folded neatly.

Jim was nowhere in sight.

Leonard blinked. _Damn it, kid._ He sagged against the doorjamb. Should he wait here? Maybe Jim had gone back to the bathroom to brush his teeth or something. He didn’t hear anything from that direction, but…

Then he turned and saw the other door.

 _Oh. Of course._

It was dark and cold in Jim’s childhood bedroom. The curtains had been drawn back, and Leonard could see the fat flakes tumbling past the glass. They had a gentling, soothing effect; they made him want to lie down and close his eyes. Relax. Let go. Finally.

 _We're stronger than we believe._

He could hear Jim’s breathing and he moved toward it, putting a hand out to avoid colliding with any furniture. He found the twin-size bed where Jim lay. He fumbled some more, and then his hand came in contact with Jim’s bare foot, which twitched when he grasped it.

“Took you long enough,” Jim mumbled. “Mom chew your ear off?”

“Were you really planning on falling asleep in here?”

“There wasn’t exactly a plan. I just wanted to see my old room…”

“In the dark?”

“Feel it. Breathe it in. I don’t know. It’s weird being back. Doesn’t seem real. Mom uses the same latke recipe she did when we were kids. We light the same menorah, say the same prayers. But Sam’s kids … they’re _huge_. He’s been sending me holos via subspace for years, but it’s not the same.”

“No, it isn’t.” Leonard sat down on the edge of the bed. His eyes were growing accustomed to the darkness; he could sort of see Jim now, a long gray shape floating in space. He shifted closer, bending over the ghostly figure, his hands moving up Jim’s legs to his hips. He could feel the warmth of his skin through the flannel pajamas. And how thin he was. His throat tightened.

“Bones?” Jim’s voice was low, almost a whisper.

“Yeah?” With gentle fingertips, he traced the curve of Jim’s hip, from the iliac crest down to the acetabulum. He’d had to replace this after Ocora.

Jim wriggled under his hands. “Mm, tickles.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Don’t stop.”

So Leonard didn’t. He could feel Jim’s intense gaze as he slowly unbuttoned his pajama shirt. He felt Jim’s breath hitch and his own heartbeat quicken as he laid his palm against the flat belly and let it rest there for a moment. He used to love this: touching Jim, learning his body. Figuring out what made him sigh or giggle or wince. He remembered when all of this was new for him, for _them._ Now… He began to stroke gently, drawing warmth from Jim’s skin, trying not to let his fingers skitter when they reached the prominent ribs or the sites of old wounds.

Jim said, “When I was telling George and Alex about the _T’Plana-Hath_ and the _Phoenix_ , I started thinking about light speed and time dilation and how, if you aimed a powerful enough telescope at the 40 Eridani System, you could see Vulcan. Even though it’s been gone for five years. When I’m on the _Enterprise_ and I look back at Earth, I’m looking at Earth of the future. Ten light years, twenty, fifty… Everything on Earth has already happened, and I’m only a few minutes older. D’you know what I mean?”

“I understand the basics, but remember, I’m doctor not an astrophysicist. Maybe you’d better get to the point.”

“When I’m up there in space,” said Jim, “things change around me. _I_ change. I come back here, and it’s like…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I look at the sky from here, and it looks like the sky I knew as a kid, but I’ve been up there, and shit changes.” He licked his lips. “Sam said he loves me. He just _said_ it. I’ve never heard him say it before, and I couldn’t say it back. I wanted to, but I guess I haven’t changed as much as I thought. I don’t know.” He tossed his head back in frustration.

Leonard leaned closer and cupped his cheek. “I love you.” He spoke softly, which seemed appropriate in that small dark space and with Jim’s mother somewhere nearby, but the words rang clearly in his own ears, and their effect on Jim was immediate and heartbreaking.

He began to shake. In his childhood bed, under Leonard’s gentle hands, he began to tremble and Leonard realized – finally – that he’d been so wrong. And stupid. And selfish. Jim would never say it, and if Leonard asked him he’d probably deny it – but he was not all right. And he was not going to be all right for as long as he thought Leonard was even considering abandoning him.

“Jim.” He had his directive. At long last, he knew what to do. The knots around his heart came loose as he slid his fingers into the damp hair, tilting his face up. “I’m not gonna to leave you, darlin’.”

“There’ll be other Ocoras.”

“I know. And I’m sure I’ll freak out after those. In fact, you can pretty much count on it. But I’m not gonna leave you.” He brought their foreheads together. “I don’t wanna be standing here, looking at the sky, wondering how goddamn long it’ll take your light to get here. I wanna be with you.” He kissed Jim’s forehead. “I fucking _love_ you.” He kissed his mouth.

Jim groaned. His lips parted, but it seemed to be more in surrender than invitation, and so Leonard took his time, earning Jim back with slow licks and tender bites. Curling over Jim, gathering him close, he stroked his hair, his face, and his throat until the last shiver melted into a sigh, and something warm and sweet and fragile began to take shape between them.

Leonard didn’t stop there, but continued to give – all that he could, as much as he had. And maybe it shouldn’t have been enough. The universe was breathtakingly vast and cold, and Jim was right: there would be other Ocoras. But that was the future. This was now. And despite everything, it was enough. Jim began to move against Leonard. He wrapped his arms around him, holding onto him while he kissed him back, and it was enough.

12/10/10


End file.
